


Along With the People Inside

by YaminoTenshi202



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, M/M, Multi, Using Yūri and Viktor, Viktor is precious, episode 10 compliant, yuri is a sinnamon roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:05:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8844220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoTenshi202/pseuds/YaminoTenshi202
Summary: What a wonderful caricature of intimacy!





	

**Author's Note:**

> 2130: I have to go to bed soon, but this came into my brain as I'm pondering the plot of my Viktuuri doujinshi. Curse you, Brendan Urie and P!atD!  
> *This was originally started on 13 December 2016. Stress has now let me come up with the rest.

Viktor had led Yūri back to the room that Celestino had mentioned, listening to the soft ramblings of the other in Japanese. The younger man had been talking to him in Japanese since after their dance-off, asking what dance Viktor wanted to do and agreeing to the Flamenco. After that, no more heavily-accented English escaped those plump lips, those lips that were bitten and licked numerous times by a tongue that should be tasting of that sweet champagne that had graced it so many times tonight. 

"Come, Yūri," he urged softly in English. "Let's get you to bed."

"Viktor, _machi nasai_ ," Yūri said, holding tightly to Viktor with a hold around the other's waist that made it harder to walk into. "Dizzy..."

At least there was one word that he could understand.

"Just wait, Yūri. Let me-" He moved for the card key that Celestino had given him; apparently, Yūri couldn't have his key card as some kind of punishment. It had been with his coach instead. He would have to ask about that tomorrow morning. The door gave a humble beep, unlocking and letting them inside. Yūri turned towards Viktor, nuzzing him and tickling delicate skin with soft lips. Viktor closed the door behind them after successfully dragging them both inside. With one hand on Yūri's hip and the other on his shoulders, Viktor managed to get him to the bed.

The younger skater flopped onto the mattress, a small hiccup escaping him. Viktor let out a laugh. Yūri was adorable no matter how he was. He had been shy at the rink (though Viktor did not appreciate being ignored), quiet at the banquet, and then became a devouring monster that commanded attention and adoration from all those watching, making blood pound in Viktor's ears and fill him with so much laughter that he wondered what the last twenty-six (almost twenty-seven) years of his life was wasted on.

A part of his mind growled, though; what if this was another mask to this elusive skater? Viktor rubbed Yūri's shoulder as the younger skater sat up, a sleepy expression on his face.

"Viktor... _Honto ni..?_ You're here?"

Viktor chuckled to himself. Did he forget the whole dance that they had just shared. What a wonderful caricature of intimacy that was! Another mask that Viktor was purposefully seduced by. "I'm here."

The look on Yūri Katuski's face, however, told him that there was some innocence, that shyness, that was real. Tears and a smile, like Viktor had granted Yūri his one true wish. More hiccups follow, leaving Viktor with no idea what to do. He stammered for a minute, finally settling his hands on Yūri's shoulders.

"Stop crying, Yūri."

"You - hic - You're my inspiration, Viktor. I've always wanted to be just like you... Beautiful." Silence was the only appropriate response to what Yūri was telling him; Viktor had never been told such a thing in such a way; it was the deepest secret that Yūri had to tell.

"It's okay-"

"No! It's not," Yūri argued, his hiccuping growing worse. "I failed everybody! I don't deserve to be here with you!"

Viktor stared at the man in front of him. There was always a creature in the back of his own mind that said things like that when he had been younger, a creature that made him go to the doctor and ask for whatever he needed to feel happy. He hadn't needed his medication for years, but he had learnt to fight those monsters in his closet, in his pillow, under his bed, and in his ears. Alcohol always helped. Lovers had always helped, and a thirteen-year-old version of himself on a creaky bed was muttering those things after a terrible sprain.

And here was this beautiful skater that felt the same way. Alcohol, however, did not seem to help him.

"Yūri, it's okay." His arms wrapped themselves around Yūri, pulling him into a tight hug. "I want you here. I want you here..."

They stayed that way for a while, long enough that Viktor felt sleep begin to curl up in his throat and make him release several yawns within a few minutes. Yūri's arms had come to grasp him tightly at some point, their grip vice-like and one that Viktor found himself enjoying.

"Viktor... can I..?"

Viktor looked down, not hearing Yūri mumble. "What is it, Yūri?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Yūri looked so hopeful that Viktor found himself nodding. He leaned forward, letting Yūri take over. Their lips were wet and hungry, movement between them starting as soon as they grew used to the feeling between them. Viktor felt Yūri's mouth open up, and Viktor charged through, his tongue invading Yūri's mouth. It was sweet, hot, and Viktor strangely wanted to describe the taste as rich; he found himself pushing Yūri, pulling Yūri, doing anything to feel more of that, taste more, and smell it. He was getting more drunk than he had downstairs at the banquet.

His back was against the mattress, his hair being tugged at by greedy, gentle fingers. Yūri moaned, commanding, and Viktor willingly spread his legs at the wordless command. Yūri hummed and let out a small chuckle, hidden in their kiss, and Viktor wondered how this skater, this dancer -  _siren_ \- had managed to melt him and make him into a helpless doll, wishing to obey every order from his new master.

Viktor had never had a master before, but he had been under another man who had ground his hips into Viktor's, just like Yūri Katsuki was starting to do. This was... a blessing that he'd never felt before. Their kisses were no longer innocent, naive journeys; they were ravenous paths to conquest, lust overpowering every thought. Every touch carried the sense of wanting tomake Viktor feel good, something Viktor wanted to return, a sense of self-loathing coloring his heart; it had never felt like this before.

He was slow at lowering Yūri's trousers and underwear, smiling at the way that Yūri hissed out pleasure, his tongue coming slightly out of his mouth once Viktor dared to reach between them and trace a finger over the tip of Yūri's penis. It was uncut, and the foreskin was partially pulled back, moisture beading. He let out a laugh, one that Yūri frowned at.

"What's wrong?"

 

There were words the tumbled out of Yūri's lips, only one sounding faintly intelligible.

Libido?

Viktor felt his face flush. It seemed to be the right word, with the way that Yūri went back to kissing him, the way that he was rolling his hips into Viktor's like it would be the last moment of his life. Yūri's eyes were hungry, desperate for touch and Viktor. Viktor shivered as a hand wandered down his side. He was dying, surely; there was no way that he was really doing this, really under the mercy of this man too drunk to speak in one language but energetic enough to fuck him into the bed, their clothes still on and their cocks the only parts of their bodies making true contact.

"Yūri!"

" _Saa_ , Viktor..! _Boku no namae_..." Yūri was breathless, dissolving into whimpers that dragged out moans from Viktor's throat. This powerful man gripping their cocks in a firm grip, pumping his fingers around them, was falling under pleasure's hand. Viktor felt his heart flutter; how beautiful and graceful, becoming a glutton for that friction between them. If only he understood every word that he was saying, though Viktor wasn't too sure if he was speaking in English anymore either. He was saying something about the world ending, about the sun being born, and everything was beautiful and pure again; it was like being reborn in Yūri's arms.

Their hands were covered in a whiteness so hot, one that Viktor brought to his mouth, Yūri staring at him all the while with awe and hunger on his face.

"Viktor..."

"Yūri."

The room was righting itself again, and Viktor heard a faint noise... A slamming on the door.

"That's... my coach..." Viktor muttered, cursing under his breath. Yakov was shouting in Russian, things that Yūri's neighboring hotel guests would not be pleased with. He gently pushed Yūri back into bed, the younger man's eyes already drooping.

" _Ikanaide..._ "

A hand grabbed his wrist, desperate, and Viktor felt bile rise in the back of his throat. Carnal need inside of him told him to stay, to stay here and make sure that Yūri would never act this way drunk - perhaps it was due to the condition of the alcohol leaving his system? - but Yakov's voice was telling him otherwise. He had to leave, or it would reflect badly on them both, two young men that were caught in passion and alcohol. Yūri's voice couldn't siren-soothe him, he told himself; he wasn't kissing Yūri's forehead, and he wasn't kissing those sweet tears away.

"Meet me in the lobby. Tomorrow morning."

"... Lobby... Morning."

"Yes,  _lyubov moya._ "

* * *

Viktor found himself alone, waiting in a lobby where no Japanese skater had come to see him.

A caricature of intimacy...

**Author's Note:**

> Libido is pretty much the word for "sexual appetite" in every language.  
> -  
> Viktor needs a backstory, damn it.


End file.
